Okay, this will probably be quite lengthy as I’m an English teacher and love to write… so for those of you in a hurry or after bare bones info:

Date: 18.11.10
Time of first contraction: 8.09am – started spontaneously.
Timing of contractions: never less than 5 minutes apart!
Arrived at birthing unit: 11.55am
Dilation upon arrival: 8cm!!!
Rupture of membranes: Artificial, around noon.
Transitioned: kneeling, under the shower.
Started pushing: 1.15pm
Birth: 1.35pm
Analgesia: None during labour or delivery, local anesthetic and gas for repair of second degree tear.
Baby’s stats: 3050g, 47.5cm long, 32.5cm head. APGAR 9 and 9.
Gestation: 37 weeks, 6 days
Third phase: managed.
What I think helped: in terms of preparation: ante natal yoga classes, reading birth stories here!, virtual labour website (allows you to consider options beforehand – very useful as much of my labour was at home, alone), raspberry leaf tablets from 33 weeks. During labour: supportive husband and awesome midwife, the shower (aaaaaaahhhh) and back massage. Obstetrician was nice but really only arrived at the last minute.

Okay, so that’s the abridged version… for those of you with the time and inclination for the extended remix:

I woke up with a start on Thursday 18 November – my father-in-law had pulled up to take DH’s cousin to the airport. I had offered to drive her, but FIL insisted (I think he wanted to spend some time speaking German with her). While I was in the shower, my Mum called. She had had a dream that today was the day (my Mum is a bit superstitious about her dreams). I said that all seemed quiet on the Western front, and besides, I had plenty to do over the next few days: catching up with a friend, appointment with the obs, going to see the new Harry Potter film… Sorry Mum, your intuition has let you down this time (Famous last words #1). I drove DH to the station, and on the way commented that I wouldn’t be surprised if the obs, who I was due to see the next day, said that I had started to dilate as bub felt very low down in my pelvis (Famous last words #2). DH jumped out of the car saying “I’ll see you this evening.” “If not before!” I joked (Famous last words #3). I filled the car with petrol and noticed that the smell was getting to me more than usual. Got home and realised that for the first time in weeks, I wasn’t ravenously hungry. So I had a bit of fruit, and threw out my toast when I managed to burn it – the smell REALLY got to me. I settled on the couch and was just reaching for my phone to enter the Sunrise Cash Cow competition (the things we do when on mat leave) when I had a really low period-type cramp. Now, I have irritable bowel syndrome, so my first thought was that I had tempted fate with the curry I had for lunch the previous day. So, went to the loo and emptied my bowels (sorry, TMI)… but kept getting the pain. Hm. Can’t be labour, it’s only 5 minutes since the last pain started (first child, so I assumed I was in for an average 8-12 hour labour… Famous last words #4). Then another pain… and another.

8.30am saw me on the phone to my obstetrician’s office. “Hi there, I don’t know if it’s the curry I had yesterday or if I have gone into labour.” “Give the hospital a call.” I did, and relayed the same message to them. “Should I get my husband to come home from work?” “Uh, yes, that’d be a good idea.” So DH, who has just sat down at his desk, gets a call just as I have another contraction. No denying it now: this is NOT the curry. He, too thinks we have a good 12 hour stretch ahead of us. He’ll send a couple of emails and come right home.

The friend I was supposed to be seeing called to let me know that she and her girls were still sick, and didn’t want to pass the bug onto me. I told her not to worry, I wasn’t up for morning tea today in any case… “Why not?” “I think I’m in labour.” “Ooh! Take a couple of panadol and see if the pain goes away.” I did, but may as well have eaten a couple of jelly beans for all the good it did! I called my Mum. “You and your bloody dreams!!” She offered to drive down – a five hour trip – but still believing I was in for the long haul, I told her that DH or I would call when we went to the hospital.

Time started to blur. I hadn’t packed my bag, but had piled everything up on the baby’s change table, so tried desperately to stand there and pack it. I kept doubling up with contractions and wandering off (usually with some essential item in my hand) trying to find a comfortable place and position, which meant that my carefully assembled belongings were being scattered all over the house. I did a lot of slow swaying leaning on the stair rail upstairs, but decided that I was too hot upstairs and needed to be downstairs under the aircon. I took my iPod and speakers with me, as well as a stress ball. Got very frustrated trying to put batteries in the iPod speakers – why, oh why had I not followed ALL advice and got myself packed and organised at 36 weeks?? I tried to keep track of my contractions on Contraction Master on my laptop, but couldn’t comprehend what it was telling me – that my 60-second+ contractions were less than 3 minutes apart. “Must be doing it wrong,” I thought. Phoned hubby and asked him to download the app onto his iPhone so he could time me when he got home.

DH, obviously alarmed by my moaning on the phone, got off the train at Parramatta and caught a cab home. I have never been happier to see him, but all I could do was wail, “I haven’t packed my bag!” He bolted off up the stairs, swept everything into the suitcase, calling encouragement down to me as I moaned my way through more and more contractions… still couldn’t work the flipping app on the iPhone, so still had no clue of how close I was. DH bolted down the stairs with the bag and said, “Come on, we have to go.” Still in denial, I didn’t want to get into the car… I didn’t want them to send me home. But DH called the hospital and my Mum and coaxed me into the car. All I could think on the drive over was, “I hope he doesn’t get pulled over… I’m not wearing a seat belt.”


In the parking lot at the hospital, I now didn’t want to get out of the car. DH convinced me to get out, but was struggling to manage both me and the bags. I tried to convince him to leave the bags but he seemed to feel he could manage the bags and me… until I was hanging off his neck having another contraction. A very kind random stranger offered to run and get a wheelchair, and he then took the bags up to the birthing unit for us. I have no idea who he was, why he was at the hospital, and certainly wouldn’t recognise him if I saw him again, but I am so grateful for his help.

Got to the birthing suite and was greeted by Kim, our midwife. Kim asked what I had planned for the labour. I replied, “I was all gung ho about not taking any drugs, but I don’t know if I can keep going without anything.” (At this point I still thought I had hours and hours ahead of me.) She did an internal (YARGH) and said, “Do you want the good news or the good news?” “Good please.” “You’re 8cm dilated.” “WHAT?!” “Yup. You’re going to have this baby really soon.” She ruptured my membranes, which was sweet relief, but boy did bub start to get a move on after that.

An orderly brought in a lunch tray for DH, and he sat down to eat. I was okay on my own for a couple of minutes, but then I called out to him… only to send him away to get a barley sugar as whatever he had eaten had onions in it!! Amazing how acute my sense of smell was that day.

DH and Kim got me kneeling under the shower – forearms on a towel on the bath chair, knees on a mat, DH behind me massaging my back and running the showerhead over me. The pressure of bub’s head was intense, and the contractions were coming thick and fast. I was rolling the stress ball up and down the chair for all I was worth, and at one point I asked for gas, but Kim said, “Time to start pushing.” “WHAT??”

Kim handed DH a gown for me and he tried to slip it on to my arms. I pushed it away, and moaned, “It’s inside out.” (?!? Like it mattered?! Apparently at that point it did matter to me!!!) “How can you tell?” “Look at the seams…” Good man, he humoured the crazy lady, turned the gown in the right way, slipped it onto my arms and helped me over to the bed. Kim monitored bub for a bit and said, “Alright, this baby will be here in about 20 minutes.” “WHAT??”

(She must have thought I was the most stupid woman she’s ever met. I was so completely sure that I was in for about a 12 hour labour that every time she told me how close the birth was I responded with the same incredulous rhetorical question: “WHAT??”)

Kim showed DH and I what to do and she got me to push. The pressure was intense but at the same time I was starting to understand how close it was to being over. I found it hard to focus though, and she said, “I’m just going to get a mirror so you can see.” “See what?” “The baby’s head.” “WHAT??” I turned to my husband. “Can you see it?” He said, “Yeah, I’ve been able to see it for awhile!” He hadn’t said anything because he didn’t know how I’d deal with it, but in the end it was all I needed – as soon as I saw that little tuft of hair on my bub’s head, I focused like never before in my life. DH reckons I entered The Zone. Kim moved away briefly to call the obs, who arrived pretty much in the nick of time. He delivered the head – I could see that the poor little thing had a slightly cone-shaped head – the baby had dropped fairly dramatically at 35 weeks so had spent 20 days wedged into my pelvis… and my first words to my child? “Hello, little conehead!” Nice, Mama… really nice. Another couple of pushes and I was being handed a squirmy, squalling little girl. “Hi, Amelia… hello my darling.” (Better than “conehead…” I think I’ll avoid telling her that part!) I hadn’t even noticed Kim moving away to take pictures when the obs arrived, but I’m so glad she did – she caught the moment I took Amelia into my arms, and I’m so glad that it is preserved forever.

I had a managed third phase, which darn well hurt. I would have preferred a physiological third phase, but like so many things, believing I would go full-term I hadn’t printed out my birth plan and wasn’t able to articulate that at the time. As it was, I needed to be stitched after a second degree tear, so by that point I didn’t really care – my main concern about going drug-free during labour was to minimise impact on the bub. I’m glad the obs showed us the placenta – it is a gruesome looking thing, but what a miraculous piece of work it is! Amazing that it sustained my daughter so well for so long.


She yelled for ages after she was put on my tummy – warming up a fairly sensational set of lungs that she is not in the least bit shy about using. She seems to consider nudity an affront to her dignity, and protests accordingly… so baths and nappy changes have been fun thus far! She is a gorgeous little thing, very determined from the start. She was certainly determined about arriving early, and quickly, and has continued that way – she goes from zero to 100 in 2 seconds flat, which is a shock to the system for two normally laid-back and now sleep-deprived first-time parents! But we love her to bits and are doing our best to make sure she is happy and healthy.

We had to stay in hospital for an extra day as my milk took its time coming in, and Amelia lost more than the expected 10% of her birth weight. She also became a bit jaundiced. Two weeks on and BF is still very challenging, but we’re persevering and it is evident that she is gaining weight. Her colour is great now and she’s just so beautiful. DH and I keep looking at her and wondering how we got so lucky. I keep looking at my body and thinking what an amazing thing it has done. Forget uni, forget travel, forget career achievements… having my daughter is the most empowering, incredible thing I have ever done.

Thanks for reading. I found the stories on this site so useful in my preparation for labour that I wanted to share my own story.